Grey Matter
by Closet Adventuralist
Summary: Francis finds herself working with the Kingsmen on a one-and-done mission. When things don't go exactly as planned, she finds that there are unexpected perks. Merlin/OC


"I cannot believe you got me to agree to wear this dress," Francis complained as she got out of the car. Reaching down, she tugged at the hem, wincing as the movement brought the neckline down far enough that she wondered if she'd be arrested for indecent exposure. Though she wasn't particularly buxom, her push up was very well made and the body shaper very tight.

Merlin sighed deeply as he circled to her side, sporting a pair of dark gray slacks and a light blue button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, "It goes with the role you're playing."

"Yes, but so does a pair of leather pants," she retorted without any heat. "I'm going to flash the entire party if I bend over."

She felt his eyes drop down to where the skirt hugged her thighs and she intentionally gave a little shimmy.

With a wry smile, he simply said, "Then, don't bend over."

Francis had only known him for about three weeks, and while she thought he was gorgeous and capable, she was two seconds from throttling him. His methods were beyond meticulous and he expected to be obeyed in all aspects of his directives. It didn't quite jive with her normal working style, but they were paying her very well and she figured that her pride could take the hit.

They were walking up to a three story building that was housing one of the hottest parties in the city. Her job was to get them to an office on the second floor where Merlin could access their data system. After the events of V-day, the software for Valentine's cell service had gone missing. Francis had been recruited to help The Kingsmen figure out who had taken it.

It was a simple enough job, and Francis wasn't worried, despite being out of the business for seven years. She sauntered up to the security guard and gave the fake name—some new money pop sensation. Francis was going to booze, schmooze, and work the floor so that Merlin could get where he needed to go. Sweet, simple, doable.

A hand pressed to the small of her back, where the golden fabric of her mini dress dipped low, "We're in."

She knew he was talking to Eggsy, sitting at the bar and scoping out the place, but his mouth was inches from her ear. The vibrations of his voice were rumbling up her arm and over the back of her neck. Francis suppressed a shiver and put on her game face, immediately over exaggerating her movements and plastering a smile across her lips. She called for two shots and a beer at the bar. After emptying half the contents of the bottle, she used the space to carefully spit out the contents of the shots. Though she had no problem indulging from time to time, this was not the place for drunkenness.

A moment later, she was jumping up and down, claiming that the music was _her motherfucking song_ and heading out to the dance floor while her 'bodyguard' kept watch. She and Merlin had been playing a kind of game that she was intimately familiar with since a confident young woman named Roxy had walked into her job and offered to pay her to work her first con in seven years. Francis would push right up until the point where Merlin stepped away. The man had some serious control because despite the fact that she hadn't outright propositioned him, she'd more than laid the offer on the table.

Shaking out her hair, Francis picked a guy to dance with and went to work. The movements were overstated, her voice calling out excited compliments to the DJ from time to time. She made furtive glances to her fellow dancers, picking out a gaggle of women to turn into the life of the revelry. While it wasn't a bachelorette party, which was the easiest to pull, it was good enough. She bought them a couple rounds of drinks with the cash she had stuffed into her bra and then bribed the DJ to play some of the more raucous songs on the Top One Hundred. The crowd began to rage as the alcohol and the music surged.

With a swing in her hips, she sidled up to Merlin and observed the making of one hell of a distraction. The girls were getting drunk, the music was pounding, and the heat from the sheer amount of bodies pushed into the space was skyrocketing. Patting at the sweat on her neck, Francis looked for Eggsy, spotting him talking with a pretty woman at the bar. She didn't know a lot about him, but he'd shown some very nice weapon skills in their practice run and Merlin trusted him. Francis, for whatever reason, trusted Merlin. Funny, that.

"Where's our in?" She asked, reaching out to pluck a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, uncaring that she hadn't ordered it.

Merlin angled himself to look behind her, assuming the position of a security guard on duty, protecting his client. Francis let herself fall into submissive body language, allowed herself to look fragile and small. Calculated as it was, she rather liked not having to take charge and create a plan for once. It was entirely freeing to be at the whim of her comrades, even though she knew perfectly well how things would play out.

"There's a staircase to the left…don't look," he muttered lowly, "And an elevator."

Francis did a little twirl, taking his hand and forcing him to lead her a bit while she surveyed the options. She swung into him, pressing her body into the sharp, carefully hidden angles from chest to thigh, "Odds are, there are cameras in the elevator."

"Right," Merlin confirmed, walking easily with her deeper into the throng of people. "And there are more likely guards in the stairwell."

Francis looked up at him, a smirk on her lips, "Guards which can be easily dispatched."

"Of course," he replied, moving effortlessly in tandem with her.

Each step was measured, but firm. His hands guided her left and right, keeping her out of the way of the dancers while inching them inexorably towards their target. Francis smiled at the pressure of his front to her back, a steady reminder that they were working as a team. The lights reflected off of every surface, but darkness could be found, if she was willing to work—which, of course, she was.

The dancers were growing more frantic, the pulse of the room inching higher. Francis let herself touch and be touched by those nearby, winking at a passing dancer while they sauntered towards the stairwell at the back. Her chest felt full with life, the thrill of everything around them sparking something inside that she hadn't felt in a long time. She swayed with the beat and the crowd, giving just a little more wiggle than was strictly necessary—all for Merlin's benefit, of course. Hands gripped her hips, stilling her. She turned and glanced up.

Merlin was looking intently behind her, "Eggsy, we're going to need to draw the guards to the other side of the room."

Though she couldn't hear the reply, Francis could see the confirmation in Merlin's eyes. She resumed her little dance, pausing when the hands on her hips tightened slightly.

"Stop a moment," he murmured, the vibration of his voice traveling from her cheek to her shoulder and down the length of her body all the way to her toes. It happened more and more when he spoke to her, that trembling feeling shooting through her body. Especially when he was giving directives.

Obediently, Francis settled into her heels, dancing a bit in the meantime. The music, having been booming through the room loudly for the last half hour, softened a bit. The DJ, apparently, was feeling the R&B at that moment. She definitely approved. Francis was on the job, and was a consummate professional, but she knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth when the time came.

Turning and looping her arms around Merlin's neck, she swayed to the music, using the syncopated rhythm to give an occasional roll of her hips. Francis could hear the very soft sigh escape him, but couldn't tell if it was from resignation or exasperation. And, she didn't much care. She was having fun while they waited for Eggsy to make his move, and there was nothing more to be done about it.

A cry pierced the room half a second before the sprinklers went off, starting to soak the room within seconds. With a flash of movement, Merlin had her running in her heels, dodging people left and right until they burst through the door of the stairway. By this time, Francis was breathing hard, one hand gripping Merlin's and the other touching her chest, feeling her heart hammer.

They were almost immediately met by guards that tried to direct them back the way they came. Merlin dropped her hand and started up the stairs, pushing the guard to the landing and incapacitating him, using a well thrown knife to pin the security camera flat to the wall. One long leg lifted and knocked the other guard off balance, sending him tumbling down the stairs towards Francis. She braced herself against the door, trying to keep as much out of the way as possible. While she was gifted at convincing people of doing things they didn't want to do, fighting really wasn't her strength. The guard looked up at her, reaching for his gun. She panicked a bit, knowing that she was unarmed and (unfortunately) not wearing bulletproof clothing.

Using the high heel of her shoe, she stepped down on the guard's hand, wincing when the bone crunched beneath her weight. The guard's cry brought Merlin's attention downward from where he was taking down the third assailant. He gave a sharp punch to the temple of his opponent, knocking him out cold. Francis gave a little wave, waiting for him to return and do the same with guard under her heel.

Not willing to go down quietly, the guard gripped her calf and yanked, dropping her to her knees and releasing the pressure on his hand. Francis caught herself on her palms, just managing to get her arm up to block the hit that was aimed for her face. She grappled with him, using her teeth to bite down on his forearm. A knock to her thigh that was definitely going to leave a bruise had her grunting, the floor scraping against her hip. The guard had her at a distinct disadvantage, his heavier weight and strength subduing her far faster than she would have liked. It wasn't until his head was yanked back and hit with irrevocable force that Francis was able to let out a breath. She realized, belatedly, that she'd been holding it during the melee and that her lungs were burning.

Merlin helped her to her feet, "Are you alright?"

Francis slid her hands down the length of the dress, pulling it back down over her rear and hips, "Yes. I think so."

Conveniently, there was a supply closet at the bottom of the stairs. Each guard was cuffed with zip ties and injected with something that looked vaguely green.

When Francis lifted a questioning brow, Merlin simply shoved the injector back into the inner pocket of his jacket and said, "So they don't alarm the others."

They were off in the next second, climbing the stairs carefully while Merlin looked for more guards. Francis balanced carefully in her heels, staying well behind him and keeping an eye on their six. Merlin eased into the hallway, looking focused and ready for the fight. He palmed a gun, but Francis had a feeling he wouldn't need it. The way he'd taken down the guards was fluid, brutal, and precise. There was an ease in his violence that should have unsettled her—he hadn't even broken a sweat. Instead, Francis found her adrenaline levels skyrocketing and her inclination to touch him (which, admittedly, never quite went away) nearly irresistible.

Shaking herself, Francis followed him until they reached a corner, peering out with him. There were two more guards standing in front of their target—an office with a computer that could access the database. Francis tapped Merlin lightly on the shoulder, giving him a wink and a sashay before turning the corner and immediately dropping into hysterics.

"Help," she cried, just failing to put real tears in her eyes. "Help me."

The guards, startled by her sudden appearance, rushed from the door. One grasped her by the arms as she pretended to lose her will to stand—a performance worthy of the lead in a school play she lost to Carla Foster in the ninth grade.

"You have to go," she gasped, "The stair well, you have to see."

Though she was laying it on a bit thick, they rushed from her side, one reaching for their cell. She watched them for a moment, pushing back to standing. The bodies came flying back from around the corner, dazed, but readying for a fight. Francis used their distraction to test the knob on the door. Locked. Kneeling down, she reached into the fold of her hair and pulled the lock pick from its hiding spot. Though the sounds of the fight continued, she narrowed her attention to lock, feeling five pins that needed to be maneuvered.

One the third pin, she felt Merlin move to stand beside her, "Haven't you got that open yet?"

Francis smiled at his tease, saying, "Locks are like women, Merlin. You've got to find the right combination of movements to open them up."

There was a pause, "And you have experience with…getting women to open up?"

Feeling the last pin click into place, Francis turned the knob and looked up at him from her kneeling position, "Don't you?"

Not waiting for an answer, Francis stepped into the room, moving to the side to allow Merlin to drag the two unconscious men into the room. Like those before them, they were similarly cuffed and injected, pushed into the adjoining bathroom and forgotten. It was then that he really got to work. At the computer with two long strides, Merlin started tapping out commands at lightning speed. Francis took the opportunity to look around the room.

Lushly decorated, the place screamed money. The wood was carved in a baroque theme, the couch a soft, deep, green velvet. She sat gingerly down, resting her feet for a moment. Francis definitely wasn't in her twenties anymore. In seven years, she had forgotten what it was like to work a job like this. But, she realized that she missed this a lot more than she thought she would. The excitement, the adrenaline, the feeling of getting one over on someone—it was all coming back to her. And, soon, the joy of success would join the rest of the emotions she was feeling.

Merlin attached a small thumb drive to the USB port, downloading what they needed. Francis leaned on her elbows and observed him for a moment.

"What if they find the guards?"

He looked up at her through his glasses, "We'll deal with it when it comes."

"Yes," Francis said, elongating the vowel, "But if they suspect someone like, you know, _us_ , is up here, won't they come up with guns blazing?"

His eyes dropped to the screen as he tapped out a few more prompts, "Probably."

Her gaze narrowed, "You know you're the only one of us wearing anything close to Kevlar, right?"

Sighing, Merlin turned his full attention to her, fixing Francis with a placating look, "Problem?"

"A little bit," she replied, giving a shoulder shrug.

His head tilted to the side, half annoyed, half amused, "Care to share with the class?"

"I'm just saying that I didn't come prepared for a gun fight."

The smile on his mouth could be construed as a smirk. He busied himself with rapid taps to the keyboard, giving silent directives to the system. Francis had to stop herself from detailing a scenario in her head about what other kinds of directives he could give with his hands, but that didn't stop her from filing it away for a time when she wasn't working.

"You're perfectly safe."

She rolled her eyes, "I know. I just prefer not to be shot at."

"Don't we all," he murmured absently, leaning a bit away from the screen. "I think I've got it."

His time, as always, was impeccable. Footsteps could be heard coming towards the office from down the hall. Francis stood and stared at the door while Merlin shut down the computer and pocketed the USB. In almost the same movement, he was holding a pistol. Unwilling to initiate a fight when there were other options available to them, Francis placed a hand over his, shaking her head.

"Put it away. I have a better idea."

Merlin looked skeptical, but holstered his weapon discreetly, one hand flinging out towards the door, "I hope you're going to tell me in the next two seconds because-,"

Thinking that showing would be better than telling, Francis used the little leverage afforded by the well tailored shirt and yanked him down to the couch. Thankfully, Merlin's quick reflexes caught the bulk of his weight before he crushed her entirely and he ended out braced on one hand, his knee between her thighs. The power of surprise being what it was, he went down easily, falling right into his predetermined place. Francis smiled even as she leaned up to kiss him, careful not to dislodge his glasses. For a moment, he was unmoved, and she could practically hear his mind calculating from the near distance.

Then, as if the gods of cons were smiling down on her, Merlin relaxed as much as a man such as himself was able and kissed her back. The footsteps continued to get closer, but Francis was pretty sure the display would throw them off their guard enough to get them out of the room unharmed. If not, Merlin still had his gun and she was getting a masterful kiss out of it. He took control immediately, which suited her just fine. She liked the way his hands framed her hips, adjusting them slightly so that their bodies fit together. She also liked that he crowded her a bit, using his larger frame to steer her movements. Though he hadn't opened enough for her to get a true taste of him, deep searching pull of his mouth was enough to make her breathless.

All too soon, the doors were bursting open and Francis was falling right into character, giving a little squeal and laughing loudly. Merlin remained atop her for a moment, looking not the least bit disheveled.

Francis flung an arm over her head, "Come to join the party, boys?"

Merlin jerked his head towards her, looking down at her with near fury in his eyes. Francis smiled and patted his chest lightly, hoping to convey that she was playing her part.

Standing unsteadily, she forced a slur into her speech, "Jus' tryin' to find some pri-privacy."

One of the guards narrowed his eyes are her. She stumbled, letting Merlin catch her balance. Francis could feel that one hand was sitting low enough on her body that he could reach for his gun in half a second. She was hoping that it wouldn't come to that.

"You aren't allowed in here. Where are the other security officers?"

Francis threw up her hands, a huge smile on her face, "At the party!" Then, to Merlin, "Can we go back to the party. Please?"

Eyes narrow and jaw set, Merlin nodded, taking her elbow to 'guide' her out of the room. One of the guards looked like he would protest, but Merlin spoke low to him while Francis continued to stumble out of the room. She kept the little charade up until she reached the elevator, leaning down to stare at the button a moment before jabbing it with her pointer finger. All the while, she listened for the sounds of a fight or shots, ready to take off down the stairs if necessary.

The carriage opened and Francis stepped inside, unsurprised to see Merlin stride right in after her. She waited until the doors closed before she sighed in relief, leaning against the wall.

"That was close," she commented, looking over at him.

"Close is a relative term," he replied coolly, adjusting his cuff links.

Francis got a good look at him and started laughing. She had to grip her stomach and leaned over to get air, the chortles taking her always down to the ground floor and into the back hallway. Merlin, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, finally inquired as to the reason.

"Have you looked at yourself?"

He waited a beat before stepping over to a nearby mirror, wincing at the lip gloss spread across his mouth. As he was wiping at his face with a handkerchief, Francis leaned in beside him to reapply.

"Never a dull moment," she said, capping the tube.

Merlin slipped the handkerchief in his pocket, "Not around you, there isn't."

Francis smiled as she made their way to the back of the building and out onto the street where Eggsy was waiting with the car, "I'm a big ball of fun, Merlin. The sooner you get used to that, the better we'll get along."

Merlin helped her into the backseat, closing the door behind him, "Forgive me if I reserve judgment until we're through with the job."

Pretending to think, Francis pursed her lips, saying, "I'll allow it."

His eyes flicked up to her in challenge, "You-,"

Glass shattered around them. Francis could hear Eggsy gunning the engine and cursing rather eloquently. Merlin shoved her down into the floorboard, gun out and firing rapidly. She huddled down, bouncing as the car took sharp turns. It was stupid to think that they'd get away with it that easy. Stupid to let her guard down for even a second. But, she felt so safe when she was working with them, as if everything would be taken care of if she only played her small role. It had to be their accents. She always worked better with Europeans.

Eventually, one of the bullets hit home and Eggsy cursed more violently. "If anyone has a plan, we've go' about thirty seconds before the engine locks up."

The car skidded to a stop and Francis was being dragged from it and thrown into an alley way, Merlin's long legs moving quickly. Francis had a hard time keeping up, her heels slowing her down. With an exasperated grunt, he hauled her underneath his arm and lifted her bodily. Francis would have taken the time to be impressed by the show of strength if she wasn't desperately trying to not be shot. They rushed around a corner where Merlin managed to get them into an empty store. Francis was set down and she followed dutifully, half listening to Merlin giving updates to Eggsy.

After exiting through the back of the shop, Merlin pulled her into an empty cab, giving out a short command. Francis did her best to catch her breath, all the while looking around for the potential death. She wiped at the sweat on her brow, irritated to find that Merlin was looking unruffled. Though, she supposed that this was par for the course for him—just one more mission that ended in bullets.

They pulled up to a rather swanky hotel, the lights shining in the distance. Merlin helped her out of the cab and Francis had to take a minute to make sure she was presentable. Her hair was falling from its coiffure, but her makeup looked to be mostly in place and her dress covered all of the important bits. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Merlin took her hand and led her in. He paid in cash and they rode in an elevator for the second time that night, up to their room.

Once they were keyed in, Francis sat on the bed and watched Merlin secure the room. He closed the blinds, checked the bathroom, under the bed, and in the closet before he shrugged out of his jacket and leaned both hands on the desk nearby. Francis said nothing, unsure of the protocol. Warily, she stared at the holstered pistol at his back.

Finally, the silence had gone on long enough, "What do we do now?"

Merlin turned a little to look at her, "We wait."

"That's it?"

He nodded, "Eggsy will clear us as soon as he can. For now, we sit tight and wait."

Francis swung her feet, wondering if it would be okay to shuck her heels. They were starting to blister her feet and she was desperate to get some relief.

"How long?"

Shrugging, Merlin took off his glasses and set them aside, "I need a laptop."

She looked around, wondering if a hotel like this could supply one a la carte. "Should we call down to the front desk?"

The little laugh he gave made her skin tingle, a dark, dangerous sound, "I'll have to procure one, I think."

"Oh," she replied, her mouth holding around the 'o' for a moment. "So, should I just hang out here while you go out and steal it?"

Merlin smiled, pulling his jacket back over his shoulders. "Try to rest."

"Yes, sir," Francis called out with a mock salute.

He froze, sending her a long look before swiveling stiffly and walking out of the door into the hallway. Francis sighed deeply, wondering if she'd offended him. The adrenaline of the night was quickly fading away and her eyelids grew heavy. Knowing the Merlin would wake her if needed, she slid up the length of the bed and used her toes to kick off her shoes. Then, she reached over and turned off the light on the nightstand and let herself fall asleep.

Francis woke all at the same time, sitting up. The light was the dull gray of early morning. Across the room, Merlin's face was illuminated by the glow of a computer screen. His jacket and tie were lying next to him, glasses still in place.

"What time is it?"

Without glancing up, he answered, "Six."

"Did Eggsy call?"

"He did, indeed. Extraction is scheduled for fifteen minutes from now."

Francis shoved back the covers and padded to the bathroom where she did her best to make herself look halfway presentable. Her makeup had smudged incredibly halfway down her face. She wet a washcloth and rubbed it across her skin, taking the black smudges with it. From outside, she heard Merlin curse.

"What?" She called out, leaning through to see him closing the door.

Merlin stood very still, "They're sweeping the rooms."

Stepping into the room proper, Francis put her hands on her hips, "Who is sweeping the rooms?"

"Security team."

She scoffed, "We paid. We're legit."

With a sardonic look, Merlin clarified, "We're also being painted as known criminals."

"Aren't we?" Francis shot back with a smile.

"That's not the point," Merlin retorted lightly, smiling. "Right now, there are men with guns checking every room to kill us."

She nodded solemnly, "That is a problem." Then, "I have an idea. Take off your shirt."

"Pardon?"

Francis ran to the bathroom, talking quickly, "They're looking for a man and a woman, but I bet they aren't looking for a couple on vacation. Just take off your shirt and get under the sheets, bury your head in the pillow, and I'll take care of the rest."

She emerged from the bathroom in one of the fluffy robes, a towel wrapped 'round her head. Though he looked entirely too skeptical, Merlin was unbuttoning his shirt. She allowed herself to stare a moment too long before she got to work.

Francis smiled at him reassuringly, "This is what you hired me for."

When the knock came a few seconds later, she hurried him under the covers and threw one of the pillows at him before scrambling to open the door, breathless.

"Yes?"

They held up a picture of her and Merlin standing in the elevator. She was laughing, her face obscured by her hands, and Merlin was glaring. She would really like to have that picture.

"Have you seen these two?"

Peering innocently at the photo, Francis shook her head, "Um, no, I haven't."

The man squinted at her and Francis hoped that the thick layer of make-up had concealed her face enough the previous night that she now looked like another person. Merlin, however, would be unable to conceal himself. His distinctive figure was likely to stand out anywhere.

"You're sure?"

Francis nodded, "I'm sure. My—my husband and I have had a bit of a late night and we didn't see anyone last night." She leaned in and whispered, "I kind of wore him out."

She could see the man flush a bit, dropping his arm awkwardly. Mission pretty much accomplished.

Looking behind her, Francis asked, "Is that all? I'd really like to get back to bed."

The man pocketed the picture, "We'd like to take a look around."

"Oh," Francis breathed, "Um, he's still sleeping and, like I said, kind of exhausted. Can you look from here?"

There was a pause long enough that she thought he might push forward, but eventually he nodded. Smiling, she opened the door wide enough that they could see into the room through to the bathroom. Merlin had pushed his face into the pillow, only his broad shoulders visible, peeking out from beneath the sheets. Francis held her breath, waiting for the security team to get their look and then pulling the door close to her body once more.

"That good enough?"

Another pause.

Francis sighed in exasperation, "Listen, I just want to get back to bed. Don't you think you've interfered with my weekend long enough? Or, do I need to make a phone call to the front desk."

A man stepped forward, "We're good. Thank you, ma'am."

Nodding curtly, Francis closed the door and leaned against it, "All clear."

Merlin lifted his head, brows already drawn together, "I do not believe that such a scheme worked."

"Believe it," Francis replied as she sauntered towards the bed. "I just saved our asses. You're welcome, by the way."

The watch on Merlin's arm beeped. He glanced down at it, "Looks like it's my turn."

Francis watched as he rose and grabbed his shirt, buttoning it as he closed the laptop and gathered his weapon and cell, which starting ringing just as he'd palmed it.

"Yes?" He spoke into it, waiting for the response. "Right. On our way."

A small thump sounded from near the window. Merlin crossed to it and opened the latch, pulling the glass as far open as it would go. Francis stepped around him, eyeing the line attached to the right side of the pane, the cord taut. Merlin unhooked a small bag from it and unrolled it, pulling a harness free and quickly fastening it around his body.

"Where's the second one?" Francis asked, pressing her cheek to the glass to see if there was another bag.

"You'll hold on to me," Merlin answered distractedly, finishing up the buckles and tightening everything around his body.

Francis backed up, "Ah, no. I will not be dangling above an abyss between buildings with nothing connecting me to anything solid, thank you very much."

Merlin let out a soft sigh, "We don't have time for this, Francis. Those men will figure it out soon enough and we don't want to be here when they do."

She shook her head, "I bet I could stroll right past the front desk and no one would be the wiser."

"Not in that dress you won't," he shot back, holstering his pistol and leaning out to check that Eggsy was ready for them.

"Says who?"

Fist clenching on the glass, Merlin turned and stared her down. Slow, sure steps brought him within inches of her, his shoulders canting downwards as he spoke lowly.

"You are going to step off that ledge with me and we are going to slide the three hundred feet to the building across the street where Eggsy is waiting for us. We will then walk down the fire escape to the car Roxy is has parked. You will do this without complaint and without hesitation. Am I clear?"

Francis' jaw clenched and she thought about refusing, but there was something in the intensity of his gaze that made her reconsider. She looked up at him for a few seconds, feeling her breaths shallow out and her skin prickle. With her heels, she'd had to look up to him, now, in bare feet, she was barely tall enough to clear his chest.

"I said," he reiterated clearly, "Am I clear?"

Francis pressed her mouth closed, "Fine."

He tilted his head to the side, "No, no, no. When you received orders from me, you respond with 'yes, sir'."

Later, Francis would analyze the feeling that went through her and conclude that she definitely liked it when he took charge. But, in that moment, all her higher thought processes seemed to have shut down to make room for the flood of sensation from her body, the smell of him in every breath, the understanding that if she didn't agree, he would _make_ her comply.

She swallowed, noting how his eyes flicked down before settling once more on her face.

"Yes, sir," came out in a soft utterance that barely sounded like herself.

Merlin blinked, "Good."

Then, he was dragging her to the window and before she could shout 'what the fuck' at the top of her lungs, they were flying through the cool morning air. She just managed to curb the scream of fear, anyways. And, after a moment, her feet were landing on cold concrete and Merlin was handing her off her heels while he unbuckled the harness.

Eggsy stepped forward, looking casual in a hooded sweatshirt and wide billed baseball cap, "Glad to see you got on all right."

"Of course," Merlin replied, stepping out of the harness and adjusting his tie.

Eggsy spared Francis an appraising glance, taking in her frazzled state before turning on his heel and heading towards the other end of the roof, "This way."

Though Francis got stuck a few times in the grating, her heel pushing through the spaces, they made it down the fire escape to the car and drove off into the early morning.

Roxy looked at them through the rearview mirror, "Anyone feel like brunch?"

Francis slumped in the backseat, "I could use a mimosa."

It was supposed to be a one and done deal, but here Francis was, sitting once more at the table with the team. They were discussing options for using the data collected a few days before. Roxy was of the opinion that they should 'storm the castle', so to speak. They had names, they had locations, all they had to do was get in, take out the targets, and get out.

Eggsy, on the other hand, wanted a more covert attack. There were several avenues in, a secretary, an assistant, an executive. They could con their way in and then execute an arrest or execution—whichever was best—quickly and quietly. No one would even know they were there.

All faces turned to Merlin, who sat rather genially with a cup of tea and a tray of biscuits. He was quiet for a long time, seeming like he was considering his options. Francis looked down into her mug of coffee, frowning at the too cool liquid. She wanted to get up and fill another cup, exhausted and nearly limp from the days of planning that had taken place between her soaring trip over skyscrapers and that moment. Though she hadn't been actively involved in the strategizing and the research, Francis had made it a point to bring fresh tea, coffee, and nibbles in to them from time to time and to make them sleep when appropriate. She wasn't an international spy by any means, but she knew what people needed, even if they wouldn't admit it to themselves.

"I think we should take a break," Merlin announced, pushing from the table to stand.

Francis sighed contentedly, knowing she would get some hot coffee in the near future. She, too, pushed from the table and made to stand, but something in the turn of Merlin's shoulders stopped her. He looked worn, drawn, and apathetic. The shine in his eyes that always told Francis he was filled with deep, still waters was all but gone. She pressed her palms to the table and waited while Roxy and Eggsy took their leave.

"You know, Eggsy has a point," she said offhandedly. "Covert might be the best idea."

Merlin sent her a sidelong glance, "How so?"

She shrugged, "He's smooth, Merlin. Eggsy is a very smooth boy, and Roxy is right there with him."

He nodded, "They are that."

"And," Francis continued, "I'm sure an attack from the outside would probably make the news."

Merlin leaned against the table, "Undoubtedly."

"Which would probably risk exposing the agency."

"Perhaps."

She thought a little longer, "I mean, unless you picked a small number of targets and arranged for them to be in the same room at the same time and just shot them from the next building over."

He paused, jaw loosening a bit, "That—actually—may be an option."

Francis smiled, "Who is your best shot?"

Merlin's smile was indulgent, but mischievous. She was glad to see that his earlier demeanor had diminished. He leaned down to a laptop he'd set up earlier and tapped out a message. After spending just a moment more staring at the screen, he stood to his full height and slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

"That should do it."

Francis spun her mug between her hands, "What should?"

Merlin glanced at her, "I think we have a plan."

"Good," she replied, standing, "I'm going to get coffee and then take a nap. Do you need me for something?"

He paused, looking mildly surprised at her question before saying, "No, thank you."

Lifting both brows, Francis shrugged and turned to leave, "You know where I am, if you do."

Two cups of coffee and a shower later, Francis was applying a fresh coat of mascara in her bathroom mirror when a knock sounded at her door. Setting the tube aside, she answered it, smiling.

"Merlin," she greeted warmly, "Something come up?"

Instead of answering, he held out his hand and asked, "Will you walk with me?"

Charmed, and not a little curious, Francis slipped her palm in his and stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her. She noticed that he was without his usual glasses, but she found him no less attractive. Mentally, she marked off that particular accessory from her list of things that drew her to him. It wasn't the glasses, it wasn't the suit. There were only so many more things on the list and all of them were being ticked off with surprising frequency, which would leave just the man.

This was the first real contact they'd had outside of their respective role playing and she was enjoying it immensely. The hallways of the large country estate were lined with large windows that let in the afternoon sun, the carpet warm beneath her bare feet. The luxury of her surroundings was something she rarely experienced outside of work and it was incredibly gratifying to not be on her guard.

They walked for a little while, Merlin's silent presence oddly reassuring. Francis let her arm swing a little, enjoying the slow trek from one end of the house to the other.

"Tea?"

Francis made a soft sound of question, looking up at him.

"Would you like some tea?" He asked again, "The kitchen is right through there."

Francis followed his gesture and opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a quickly approaching Eggsy. It didn't escape her notice that Merlin dropped her hand.

"Plan's all worked out," he announced with flair. "Entry through the gallery and up to the corporate level."

Francis gave a smile, "Sounds like you've got it all worked out."

He winked at her, "'Course. But, just one thing. I was thinkin' it might be…advantageous to have a distraction."

The way that he was gazing at her gave Francis a pretty big clue as to who he was thinking of using in said distraction. She laughed a little, wondering at what sort he had in mind.

"Roxy is more than capable of drawing attention, Eggsy. We don't need to draw Francis into another mission." Merlin's voice was low, but no less commanding.

"Roxy _is_ more than capable," Eggsy countered, "But she'll be on the roof next door with the rifle. Which leaves Francis."

Anticipation rose in Francis' belly, the thrill of the con so near that could feel the character taking shape already. A gallery—rich, yuppie couple looking to blow some money—flirtatious wife and an absent husband. It was all too cliché, but the challenge was still there. She might even do a little grifting just to see if she still had the skills.

"I'll do it," she said, earning a wide smile from Eggsy and a frown from Merlin. "What do you need?"

Eggsy shrugged, "Just keep the security busy while I head upstairs. The less people in the room, the better it will be for Roxy to get a shot in."

Francis looked to Merlin, "I can do one more."

Merlin's brows drew together, "That's not necessary."

"Why?" she retorted with half a smile, "Afraid I'll save your asses again?"

He rolled his eyes, "There are others that could take this on."

"But no one will have as much fun with it," Francis replied, looking to Eggsy. "I have the perfect hat for this—wore it to Derby."

"Yeah, alright," Eggsy confirmed. "We'll do this in two days. Roxy wants to scope out the place first."

Merlin folded his arms, "As she should." Then, to Francis, "You'll need to be fitted with glasses if you're going to be left alone."

"I can work glasses," she confirmed, excitement pooling in her belly, "Nerdy chic is in fashion."

Eggsy shoved his hands into his pockets, looking far too satisfied, "Perfect. I'll go tell Roxy."

Francis watched him go in much the same way as he came, a quick shuffling trot that was both graceful and bumbling. Then, she turned back to Merlin.

"Tea?"

He paused, head tilting to the side, "You delight in frustrating me, don't you?"

She laughed, saying, "Someone's got to ruffle those feathers."

Taking his hand once more, she gave a little tug towards the kitchens. Her movement was stopped short, Merlin refusing to budge. Curious, Francis paused and turned to look back at him. Merlin's expression was in mid-motion, morphing from his usual serenity to something dark and determined. Francis felt her heart kick up, her mouth suddenly dry. She pressed her toes into the carpet, readying herself for whatever was coming.

He approached, using the leverage from her hand to give her a light shove. Francis let out a soft whoosh of breath as she fell into the wall, crowded immediately by Merlin's body.

"I told you that going on the mission was not necessary."

Francis shrugged, "I don't mind."

He was wearing some kind of citrus laced cologne, something touched with pine and orange. It reminded her of hot summer days, dipping her feet in cold water. She barely suppressed a shiver.

"That's not the point," Merlin replied, framing her neck and tilting her head back so that she was looking up at him. The force was firm, but not unyielding. A strong suggestion as opposed to a demand.

"What is the point?"

Continued light pressure relaxed her jaw and her eyes closed briefly as his lips brushed against hers. While not exactly a kiss, she liked the way he traced her cheekbone with his nose, thumbs rubbing against the sensitive skin beneath her chin. Francis ran her hands up the length of his chest, circling one of the buttons on his shirt. He seemed perfectly happy to nuzzle against her cheek and give little touches to her mouth, unhurried and relaxed.

"Merlin," she taunted lightly, feeling her cheeks lift with a smile. "I'm waiting for the point."

He made a low noise in the back of his throat, "The point, Francis, is that you will be ten floors below Eggsy while Roxy shoots the leader of a white collar trafficker of guns and, apparently, software in the head."

Francis let her body relax into the wall a bit, wrapping her ankle around his calf, "And?"

The word was half breathy, a soft prompt for him to finish his explanation so that she could go ahead and kiss him already. The feather-light skin contact was not nearly enough. She wanted the sure, masterful pressure she knew he had in him. She wanted the kind of kiss that peeled away the layers of his calm and composure.

"And," he continued, "You will need to get out without assistance from the team—unharmed."

She scoffed a little, the turn of her head pulled back into position by his hands, "I can do that."

Merlin's brows lifted, "I don't doubt it."

The distraction of his almost-kiss, and the increasing weight of his body as he pressed more and more of himself into her, left Francis feeling slightly dizzy. She wanted to take a moment to breathe, she wanted him to _goddamn kiss her already_.

"Then, what's the problem?" Francis asked when she could wrap her mind around the conversation.

Brushing the backs of his fingers over her cheek, Merlin simply stated, "I won't be with you."

Francis smiled again, already knowing she'd win this argument.

"You'll be talking through the com." Looping her arms a little more firmly around his neck, she stood up on her tip toes, not even close to evening out their heights. "You can give me orders the whole time. And, I won't even mind one little bit."

Using the little bit of leverage she had on her toes, Francis reached up and gently pulled his bottom lip between her teeth. As before, there was little to no hesitation. He simply dropped his head and pressed his mouth to hers, one hand falling to her waist. A firm push to her lower back had her arching back into the kiss, she felt the tip of his tongue touch the full flesh of her top lip and she opened to deepen it.

The hand at her cheek reached back to card through her hair, gripping at the base of her neck and holding her steady. Francis let her arms fall from around his shoulders, tracing the strong lines of his arms to his wrists where she squeezed in what she hoped was an indication that he could hold her tighter. This time, she did feel the hesitation in him. His kiss slowed as he pulled back, a scant inch away. His stare was intense, searching for signs of consent. Francis squeezed again, giving him just the smallest nod.

Immediately, the hand in her hair tightened, yanking her back so that her chin was pointed towards the ceiling. Francis felt herself gasp, air filling her lungs as the passageway tightened. The tension remained firm and, even looking as far down as she could, she could only see his dark brows in her periphery. It made the feeling of his mouth brushing so gently across her throat nearly burn her skin, the contrast so stark that her eyes fluttered closed.

He spent a little time on each side of her neck, tongue touching near her ear and nose following the length of her clavicle. In less than a minute, Francis was taking short, panting breaths, her nerves firing wherever he made contact. Changing position just slightly, Merlin laid his forehead against her cheekbone and, with careful precision, exhaled cool air over her skin down her neck and chest and beneath the neckline of her blouse. Goosebumps rose sharply and Francis' inhale was stilted, her body jerking with the sensation.

Merlin let her remain just as she was for a few moments and, when her feet seemed to catch her balance, he slowly pulled away. Taking her hand, he pulled her from the wall, assuring that she was steady before regaining their leisurely pace down the hall.

Francis blinked back the fogginess of her mind, "Where are we going?"

Glancing at her, Merlin reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses, putting them neatly in place, "Tea."

The glasses slipped over her ears with ease, the lenses obscuring her view for a moment before Francis was able to focus. She blinked, turning almost immediately to look at her reflection in the mirror across the room. A classic cat eye shape, thin blue-black frames. She cocked a hip, tilting her head back and forth to get all angles.

"I like them," she announced, giving her attention back to Merlin.

He spared her not half a glance before stepping away and taking stock of the other accessories available to her. Lazily, Francis sat on a large, overstuffed ottoman, crossing her legs at her ankles while she waited.

Fluidly, Merlin pivoted and offered her a golden watch, "Try this."

Francis, feeling mischievous, offered her wrist for him to fasten it, himself. Merlin took a just a moment to take her in before reaching up to take off his glasses, folding them and placing them inside his pocket. He reached down, grasping her at her forearm and slipping the watch over her fingers. Quick, precise movements had it buckled and settled in its proper place.

She turned her hand to give her assessment, "I like this, too."

He nodded, stepping away again to pluck yet another item from one of the many shelves. "The watch has several settings—stun and amnesia, for example—but, most importantly, it has a GPS locater."

Francis ran her finger around the perimeter, "I'm okay with that."

He returned, kneeling in front of her and slipping his hand around her ankle. With little to no pressure, he guided it from over top of the other. Francis narrowed her eyes at him, wondering where he was going with this and how far he would take it. Since their encounter in the hallway the day before, he hadn't done more than take her hand or guide her with a palm to the small of her back. She had to admit that the anticipation was becoming half the fun with whatever it was that was going on between them.

Absently, she took her glasses off, setting them aside so that she could get an unobstructed view of the goings on. Merlin showed her a thin scrap of material with a clasp.

"Lift your skirt to your hips."

Both brows reaching for her hairline, Francis barely hesitated before grasping the hem of her skirt and obeying. His eyes, to his credit, stayed on her face. When she set her palms next to her thighs on the ottoman, he went to work. Nudging her knees apart a bit, Merlin slipped the fabric high around her thigh, clasping it. Then, without a single ounce of flourish, he produced a sheathed knife, clipping it on the inside of her thigh. Francis examined it in much the same way she examined the watch.

"Nice to know I'll be armed with something I know how to use," she commented lightly despite the fact that her heart was pounding.

Merlin smirked ,"I'll not ask how you learned to use a knife."

"You probably shouldn't," Francis replied, "Plausible deniability is a magnificent thing."

He hummed lowly, his palms slipping beneath the bends of her knees and lifting just the tiniest bit. Francis rolled her feet upwards, resting on the flesh beneath her toes. Her calves pulled taught, toes digging into her flats.

"Is that it?" She asked, wondering if she'd get more gadgets to add to her arsenal.

Merlin nodded, "Yes. If you're caught with anything more dangerous, you won't be able to explain yourself."

Francis laughed, "Merlin, I'm never really able to explain myself. I'm just pretty good at distraction."

He looked up at her placidly, "A fair assessment."

Mouth pulling tight, she muttered, "I think I should be offended by that, but I'm not."

Carefully, he unhooked the knife and set it aside, reaching up to do the same with the watch. "You can pick these up again tomorrow afternoon."

She pouted playfully, "You mean I don't get to keep them."

Merlin lifted a brow, "Let's just see how you do tomorrow and then we'll decide what you get to keep."

Francis shrugged, knowing that she could probably at least palm the watch later. Seeing that he was going to pull away, she grasped his sweater and held him still, leaning down for a kiss. Merlin rose into it, pushing her gently back into the ottoman. With the cushion at her back to support her, Francis was able to wrap her arms around his back, pulling him further down with her.

"I like kissing you," she murmured when she had to pull back for air.

Merlin smiled against the skin of her neck, "I assure you, the feeling is mutual."

With a breathless chuckle, Francis pushed her hands up beneath the sweater and, though there was yet another layer beneath, ran her nails across his stomach. She rejoiced in his sharp inhale, arching up into him and running her teeth along his jaw. Merlin winced back a bit, grabbing both hands and pressing them on either side of her head. He looked for a moment like he would say something, but a beep on his watch stopped him.

"That'll be lunch," he announced, shifting his weight to a knee and helping her to stand.

Francis straightened her skirt, checking her reflection in the mirror—not even a wrinkle in her blouse. She wondered if she'd picked up the talent to keep her clothes perfectly pressed by osmosis, her present company having somehow mastered the skill.

"I didn't know lunch was being planned."

Merlin slipped his glasses on, "Just a light lunch on the patio."

She smiled tauntingly, "Oh, only a light lunch? Are you also planning a strenuous afternoon?"

Francis would swear on a Bible that he blushed, but he hid it well, turning a bit to rearrange his files before gesturing to the door.

"Shall we?"

Francis threw down her hat and bag, having been tossed unceremoniously into the room by a thoroughly fuming Merlin. She righted herself and turned to face him, her jaw set in defiance. He wasn't going to intimidate her, he wasn't going to win. She hadn't done anything wrong and she would defend her actions as she saw fit.

Merlin carefully removed his glasses, setting them into a case and placing it inside a dresser drawer. His pistol, earpiece, and several smaller weapons followed, the drawer shut with just his fingertips. Francis watched him with curious eyes, noting the tension in his shoulders, a strange contrast to the relaxed muscles of his face.

His silence was a physical thing between them, an angry elephant stomping around the room. Francis refused to be cowed by it, finding his fury childish and unnecessary. She hadn't done anything wrong, per se—and, yes, she hadn't exactly followed orders, either—but, she didn't blow the mission and no one was killed. At the end of the day, that should have been all that mattered.

Merlin held out a hand, "Your glasses."

Lip curling, she tossed them to him, stepping out of her heels. If they were going to fight, she was going to be comfortable during. Crossing her arms, she waited for him to get to the point. If it took longer than a minute or two, she was out the door and packing her bags. The money was already in her bank account—she'd checked several days before—there wasn't anything that could force her to stay. At least, she didn't _think_ there was anything that could force her to stay.

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, just below the slight indentions left by his glasses. "I told you to stay put."

Francis rolled her eyes, "I was gathering information."

"We had all the information we needed," Merlin countered, dropping his hand and casting her a frustrated, tight expression.

Francis stepped forward into his space, knowing that his instinct would be to pull back, to put something between them, "There was more than stolen software in that gallery. There was something much worse in there."

His jaw ticked and his chin lifted, "You didn't know that."

"Yes, I did," she shot back, resisting the urge to poke at his chest with her forefinger. "I saw _people_ down there. People who didn't look like they were guests to the party. People who looked like they were prisoners."

"And you decided," He said with venom, "To—what—save them? To liberate them from right under their captors' noses?"

Francis let out a growl, feeling for the first time apprehension dawning on her in the argument, "I had to do something."

Merlin pointed a finger at her, jabbing it in the air, "You come back to base, we regroup, and we go back in with a plan. That is how we work."

"That is how _you_ work," Francis retorted, throwing up her hands and leaning further forward. "I am not a Kingsman."

"That's not the point," he nearly shouted, real anger finally dripping into his tone.

Francis had never seen him quite so ruffled. She had never seen a crack in his serene exterior. To hear him yell in such a way (despite the volume settling way lower than her own) shocked Francis out of her own anger, made her step back and really look at him. Tense muscles, lowered brows, his shirt was wrinkled.

Lowering her voice in an effort to de-escalate the situation, Francis enunciated slowly, "What is the point?"

It took him a long time to answer, but when he did, she felt guilt well up inside, "The point is that you went offline. The point is that no one had eyes one you. The point is that you could have been shot and drug out the back door before any of us could get to you. The point is that, when you take matters into your own hands, you could die."

Francis swallowed, reaching out to place her hand on his arm, "I worked alone for a long time. I've been in a lot of jams. I was never in any danger."

"I didn't know that."

It hit her suddenly that Merlin very much knew everything that was going on with his team. With his incredible computer skills, strategic planning, and the loyalty of everyone he worked with, there was nothing he hadn't planned for. Her tiny detour probably sent him into a minor tailspin and it must have been ages since a plan had gone wrong. It was… surprisingly adorable. She decided to make amends.

"You need control, don't you?" She pronounced it with an even, soft tone, not wanting to scare him off.

His shocked expression was quickly covered, his eyes averting. She took that as a yes and moved on, deciding that she could give him that control temporarily, if it would help him deal with his feelings a bit more concretely.

"I disobeyed you," she confirmed, "Even if you hadn't outlined the rule that I shouldn't go offline, I did make a mistake." She leaned forward and said meaningfully, "I am willing to atone for that mistake, in a way that you deem fit."

She could see his mind working, a contract of sorts forming with bylaws and footnotes all being assembled at a rapid pace. Francis let him think on it, let him decide for himself if this was something he wanted to do—and let him decide exactly what it was that they would be doing.

Merlin reached up and cupped her neck, "If you want to stop, you say 'oxford'. Clear?"

Francis smiled her assent, giving a little twist of her hips in happiness.

"What is the word?"

She pronounced it clearly and concisely, relaxing the muscles of her shoulders. Merlin nodded and stepped away, pushing his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

"Take the dress off."

On any other occasion, Francis might have used the opportunity to give a little show, choreograph a little tease, but she found that her belly was twisted with knots of excited anxiety and her fingers shook when she gripped the zipper on the back. In a short, smooth movement, the dress was pooled at her feet and she was standing in her bra, panties, and the knife strapped to her thigh. Her fingers brushed it, rubbing nervously along the leather strap.

"And the knife."

The clasp was easy enough, but she didn't know what to do with it once it was in her hands. He hadn't told her where to put it and her feet were quite suddenly glued to the floor. Sensing her question, Merlin stepped forward and took the knife, offering a polite 'thank you' as he turned and set it on the dresser.

When he returned, he was looking her in the eye, a feat that many men hadn't been able to accomplish with her half naked. She didn't know whether to be impressed or disappointed. He did, however, assuage her pride as he looked her over, barely banked heat in his eyes. Francis managed not to flinch under his frank stare, nor did she shuffle her feet. She was proud. She was brave. She was pretty turned on.

Merlin ran a hand down her arm, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and pulling her down to sit next to him. Francis went willingly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she crossed her ankles over one another and waited for his instruction. Without words, he guided her down, a strong palm at the back of her neck, so that she was prostrate over his lap. Firm pressure here and there helped her to know how he wanted her positioned, her knees on the mattress, her hands clasped out before her, head bowed.

"Comfortable?" He asked.

Francis nodded, swallowing.

Running fingers up her thigh, Merlin seemed to consider her for a minute. Francis waited as patiently as she could, resisting the urge to fidget mightily. The stillness continued for far longer than she would have liked, but Francis held on, counting her breaths.

The hand on her thigh lifted, "Ten strikes, to atone for going offline. Agreed?"

Francis inhaled, catching the faint scent of his cologne, "Agreed."

His hand lifted, "What is the word?"

"Oxford," she pronounced evenly, proud of herself for the unwavering tone of her voice.

The first hit came quickly after that, just a second's pause, then a second strike. Her skin warmed from the hard contact, and she knew that she would be red already. From there, four more slaps came in quick succession. While he focused on the thickest part of her ass, the strength behind his hand made each consecutive hit slightly more painful. It was a relief that he took the time to massage the muscle before delivering the final four blows, much harder than the last six. By the tenth, Francis had to grit her teeth so as not to grunt with each.

Skin sizzling, she pressed her forehead into the mattress and steadied the panting in her lungs. Every piece of her mind was focused on the slowly cooling skin and the nerve endings that were electrified by her punishment. Below her hips, she felt the evidence of his enjoyment and she debated about whether or not to press her luck.

Fingertips roamed along her skin, touching here and there. Francis let him look, let him touch where he wanted. It gave her time to collect herself and to relax a bit. He slipped his smallest finger beneath the hem of her underwear, running along the seam towards her inner thighs. She let out a soft breath, feeling the length of the digit rest against the fold of her body where her hips, pelvis, and thigh all connected.

"Did you enjoy that?" Merlin asked lowly. Francis did not miss the gravel in his voice.

She smiled into the comforter of the bed, "The point was for you to enjoy it."

He hummed, flexing his finger just a bit, "That was not an answer."

Rolling her eyes, Francis nodded, "I enjoyed it just as much as you seemed to have." This time, she did give a little wiggle in his lap.

The hand, which had been resting rather passively between her legs, turned, curled, and gripped hard, almost lifting her bodily upwards. Francis gave a little squeak followed by a low laugh, balancing precariously on her hands and knees. The pressure was a not so gentle reminder that she was warm and wet. Her utter unwillingness to move from her position was a reminder of her assent.

"I'd like to…" Merlin trailed off, his wrist relaxing a bit as he rubbed against her center.

Francis flicked a bit of hair from her face and followed his train of thought, "You may."

"Excellent," he breathed, hoisting her to standing. "On the bed, please, head on the pillows."

While Francis complied, he turned and rummaged through a drawer. She lay back and watched, fascinated by the efficacy of his movements despite his aroused state. He looked calm, focused, very much in control. By contrast, she was more passive than she really ever had been in bed. Though lovers had sometimes dominated her in the past, she was usually running her mouth all the while, urging them on. It was nice to not have to say a word and still know exactly what she was getting.

He returned to the bed with a series of ties, "I must apologize. This is not my usual venue and I do not have my tape. Luckily, I have impeccable knotting skills."

Francis smirked, wondering what kind of tape he liked, "I'm sure you do."

"Hands up," he prompted lightly, a soft smile of his lips.

Her wrists were tied together and then fastened to the bed, her legs he left free. The knots were loose enough that she could still feel blood and move a bit, but tight enough to remind her to remain still. The work was intricate, a crossed design that gave at intervals where the pressure would be the greatest.

Merlin touched her palms, "Can you feel this?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Francis blinked up at him, watching him watch her, wondering where he would begin. The focus in his eyes continued, burning her skin everywhere he looked. She found herself blushing, her legs curling a bit inward. There was a warmth low in her belly that simmered gently, but steadily.

Merlin inhaled, "This will be light, Francis. Nothing more than what you have already assented to—to be clear, I'd like to make you come." He looked down at her, a curious glint in his eyes, "I… apologize for the tardiness of this second request. You may decline if you wish. I would also like to fuck you."

She smiled, amused by the almost bashfulness in his tone, "Do you have a condom?"

He smiled back at her, "Of course."

"Then you may do so."

Francis would later laugh at how formal they were in their address. But, she had to admit, it was a lot more interesting than some of the previous contracts she'd made over the years. At least this time she very much respected her partner, and she'd probably get off, which was the best kind of bonus.

Merlin traced a path down the length of her body, arranging her how he liked with the kind of precision she had come to expect from him. Her legs were relaxed, her hips open. Warm palms traced down the outside of her legs and then slipped inwards to run along the inseams before splaying over her lower stomach. He rubbed gently, loosening up the muscles of her hips before pulling her underwear down and off. Another return trip and his fingers slid up under the cups of her bra, rotating around to unclasp it. Though it couldn't come all the way off, stopped by her tied hands, Merlin tucked it far enough out of the way so that she didn't notice it.

As a further measure to check her safety, he reached up and touched her hands again, "Can you feel this?"

Francis nodded, adjusting herself to the most comfortable position she could manage. Merlin gave a little nod, crawling backwards to straddle her thighs. He observed her almost clinically, taking in the dips and curves of her body. Francis did her best to sit still, a talent she didn't always have in the best of circumstances. She held his gaze, but couldn't help blushing, the color running from her cheekbones all the way down to her breasts. It wasn't often that men looked at her so thoroughly, taking in every inch of her skin. Though his expression was tightly controlled, Francis could see the desire in his eyes growing with each passing second. It left her clenching and unclenching her hands, restless.

He gripped her knee, "I'm afraid I am quite unprepared for our session. As such, we will… have to improvise. Close your eyes."

She complied, taking a deep breath and waiting for whatever he had in mind. The pressure of his thighs against the outside of her hips, the feeling of his fingers as he traced idle designs over her skin. Though the room was cool, her body was warming slowly, nerves waking up and shaking themselves to attention. She felt herself smiling as he pressed kisses over her belly, his thumbs hooked around her ribcage. His tongue soon followed along with little nips here and there. Francis had to lock her jaw to keep from giggling, the feeling tickling her.

Hand flexing, Merlin massaged her thigh, subtly opening her up towards him. Though he had ample opportunity, he took his time getting to where she wanted him. Touching and kissing in seemingly random places until Francis was urging him silently with little rolls of her hips. She felt, rather than heard, him chuckling against her belly, little huffs of air ruffling the baby fine hairs near the place where her hips and thighs met.

When he finally deigned to touch her sex, it was with the lightest of pressures, little circles that started small and methodically widened and then closed in on themselves at intervals. Francis' heart picked up, working to keep blood flowing to what had now become the center of her being. Her legs became fidgety, wanting more friction. Merlin seemed to give a little growl of censure, stopping for a moment to pull her knees on either side of him, effectively minimizing and leverage she had to move herself along at a quicker pace.

Thankfully, he rewarded her acquiescence by slipping first one then two digits inside her, alternating the stroke between caressing the upper most wall and stretching her rather softly. In the darkness behind her closed lids, Francis focused on the sound of her heavy breathing intermingled with the feeling of him systematically hitting every erogenous zone between her legs. She didn't doubt that he was watching and cataloguing her reactions, looking for what she liked best and using any little detail to his advantage.

Soon enough, she was pulling at the bindings that held her still, pushing her heels into the mattress to get him deeper. She bit back what she knew would get her what she wanted, unwilling yet to give in. Francis had started this game the minute he'd flashed that endearing smile of his and she was going to finish it. Her will, however, eroded away each time his fingers sank into her, a rhythm that was enough to keep her on edge, but not nearly enough to send her over the falls.

She mumbled incoherently, hoping he'd get the picture.

Merlin paused, to her ever loving frustration, "Yes?" Followed by, "You may speak, if you wish."

Francis swallowed, both metaphorically and literally, "Please."

"Please what?"

It took her a moment to answer, an embarrassment that she shouldn't have felt working its way forward. She shoved it down mercilessly. "I want to come."

It was quiet for a bit, then, "A valid request. But, you are so lovely lying just like this. Waiting. Wanting."

"Merlin," she breathed, a soft whine in the back of her throat.

He swatted her inner thigh, a quick sting to remind her that he hadn't told her to speak. Francis hissed, but held still, running her tongue along her teeth while she waited impatiently for his decision. She got no verbal confirmation, but there was a rustling of fabric and a shift in the dispersion of weight on the bed. Keeping her eyes closed was a task as she felt him stand away from her. Several breaths later, his palm ran up her arm, hand squeezing her wrists.

"You feel this?"

She nodded.

The pads of his fingers fell down the length of her forearm over her shoulder, his palm cupping her breast, thumb circling the nipple. Francis bit her lip, trying her best to keep quiet while he started over, touching her in much the same manner, even down to the instep of her foot. She felt the bed dip as he settled back between her thighs. The inside of her knees brushed not the fabric of slacks, but warm skin. She gasped, surprised at the new exposure.

Merlin leaned forward, "You may open your eyes."

Francis didn't have to be told again, her eyes flying open to see him nude for the first time. Merlin was built very well, strong muscles roping around a tall, almost lanky frame. Dark hair spread across his chest, arms, and legs. In one hand, he held a condom. The focal point of her gaze shifted to his erection, fully aroused. Her mind wandered to what it would feel like as he pushed inside, how the length and breadth of him would stretch her fully. He shifted a little, lifting his brows a bit in question.

Francis smiled, relaxing a bit and angling her hips upwards. Merlin's eyes dropped to her center, his fingers tearing the wrapper open and quickly rolling the condom on. Then, he pressed her thighs open a bit, aligning his body with hers and reaching down to guiding himself inside. Francis let out a soft mewl as he seated to the hilt, filling her deliciously.

She felt his heart beating as his chest pressed to hers, a rapid fire thump that belied his outwardly calm state. He didn't even seem to be sweating, which was nearly infuriating in light of the fact that she was a mess of wet flesh and twitching muscle. She pulled her knees up, arching into him, trying to get a little more pressure on her clit. Merlin held nearly still, his weight balanced on his elbows, eyes following her every movement, though he looked like it was a great strain on him to hold back at that moment. In short order, he'd collected himself, and, to Francis' annoyance, he retained that look of calm that so characterized him. It was that return to calm that had Francis making the decision to go for broke.

Biting down on her cheek, Francis let her head fall back, working with whatever control she had to get him deeper. She grew quickly frustrated, resorting to clenching down on him hard. Merlin grunted, letting more of his weight fall on her, giving her just a bit more of the friction she was wanting.

"Please," she said again, hoping he'd let her come, the precipice so near.

He lifted a hand and swatted her ass, she assumed in warning, but the sting only added to her pleasure—and his as well, she thought. His hips started moving, slow, stilted, unwilling.

"Please."

Another slap to her ass, a measured pick up of his pace. Francis rotated her wrists to grip the ties firmly, emitting a litany of 'please' and 'yes' and 'more' and some phrases that weren't really coherent. Each outburst was met with both a hard strike and an unspoken assent to her pleas. Merlin kissed the skin of her neck, groaning as his hips swiveled, setting off sparks behind Francis' eyes. She wished for the first time that she could touch him, that she could give back to him the same kind of searing heat he was stoking within her. As it was, Merlin was far too occupied with delivering on his promise to make her come that she had to settle for wrapping her legs around his waist and hooking her ankles beneath his ass.

The orgasm rolled over her quite suddenly, her muscles jerking, her throat somehow raw from cries she didn't remember giving forth. Francis squeezed her eyes shut, her body trembling as shocks sparked out from every limb. Merlin kept his movement steady, extracting every last drop of pleasure from her before hooking his arm beneath her knee and veritably lifting her hips clear off the bed, deepening his thrust. Francis groaned, her head tossed to the side, hair falling over her face as aftershocks pulsed through her.

Just when the feeling bordered on pain, Merlin thrust hard, grinding his hips against her, his hand gripping too tightly on her thigh. Francis knew there'd be bruises, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care at that moment. Not when Merlin was rubbing over the spot to soothe her, not when he was reaching up to untie her hands, and not when he was testing them one more time for feeling.

"I'm okay," Francis assured him, laughing a little. "I'll be a bit sore, though."

He had the good grace to look apologetic, "Just a minute." He held up one finger, "I'll be right back."

Francis pushed the hair from her face and rummaged around the edge of the bed for her bag. Using the spare hair tie she kept for emergencies, she pulled back her hair and settled against the headboard, blushing when her hand brushed her discarded bra. Merlin returned wearing a well fitted pair of briefs and carrying a cloth wet with warm water. He ran it over her brow and down her chest all the way to her center. The heat eased some of her aches and Francis had to admit, it was attractive to see that he seemed to be the kind of person who took care of their partner following a session. Though, to be honest, he'd treated her quite lightly, but thoroughly. She wondered what he would plan, given time to prepare.

Taking her hand, Merlin turned it over and laid his fingers over her palm, "Are you hungry?"

She took a moment to think, "I could eat."

He nodded and reached down to help her into her underwear and bra, giving little touches to the small of her back or her hips in guidance. Kneeling at her feet, he pulled the length of her gown up her body and zipped it. Then, he directed her to sit on the bed as he helped her to step into her heels, giving her a slow, soft kiss afterwards. Francis smiled at him, a little incredulous, but so utterly charmed that she asked no questions while she waited for him to dress.

In the hall, her curiosity got the best of her, "Where are we going?"

He glanced down at her, and she noticed that he wasn't wearing his glasses—she hadn't even seen him slid them into the pocket of his immaculately tailored suit.

"We have reservations," was his simple reply.

Confused, she tried to put the pieces together, "How could we have reservations? I was with you the whole time and you didn't— oh, you absolute—you planned this."

He shot her a flirtatious smile, opening the door and steering her out to a car parked in the vast driveway. Francis shook her head as he helped her inside, watching him walk around to the driver's side.

When they had turned onto the parkway, she commented lightly, "You know I'm going to retaliate."

"Are you?" He replied, mirroring her airy tone, "Then I shall have to punish you."

Francis rolled her eyes and blushed simultaneously, already mulling over how to best even the score.


End file.
